This Sounds Like the Beginning of a Bad Porno
by NoviceRogue
Summary: In which Nami thinks it would be funny to unleash Sanji's wrath upon Franky, and Franky declares war upon Nami; a perverted war with sexy consequences (but not the kind you're thinking of.) Their deviousness is only matched by their stubbornness. FrankyxNami. Pre time skip. no spoilers.
1. So Hot and Wet

"Aaaand…got it! That's lock number five!" Nami cried over her shoulder. Franky adjusted his position underneath the vault door and cried back, "good! My back is starting to cramp from holding this thing up! How many more?"  
"Just two more locks, and this treasure is soooo ours!" She squealed in excitement and then went back to twisting the sixth dial of the giant safe like an artist handling a delicate work of art. Franky rolled his eyes at her, but was happy for the promise of cash. They had broken into the home of a particularly vain and crooked Marine captain on a tiny island in the Grand Line, and while the others were picking fights with the captain's subordinates, Nami had dragged Franky to the man's basement where she had heard there was a massive vault filled with money and jewels. Because they didn't have the vault pass code, Franky had had to force the outer vault door open and balance it on his shoulders while Nami cracked the safe.

Nami finally heard the last mechanism click into place, and eagerly swung the massive door of the safe open to discover…dolls; hordes and hordes of china dolls on endless rows of shelving in the frilliest dresses and bonnets ever conceived by man (or girl.) Nami was fuming with rage. She took a step inside the massive safe and grabbed the nearest doll, intending to shake it above her head in frustration, when suddenly sirens began to blare all around her. She sprinted out of the safe just before a secondary door fell from the ceiling and almost trapped her inside. Another large vault door slammed into Franky's shoulder and almost crushed him into the ground as well, but he doggedly shoved both doors back up as Nami ran out of the vault past him. "All that effort for some freaking dolls?! What the hell kind of guy puts dolls into a safe?!" She screamed in fury as she and Franky sprinted back up the stairs and back into the fray.

Hours later, back on the ship, Chopper was busy patching Zoro back up. Usopp was huddled in a corner trying to repress the nightmare fuel of the last battle, and Nami was lounging with Robin on the deck. Sanji was cooking them all dinner and Brooke was dancing around with Luffy in excitement. Nami paused in her sulking and noticed that Franky wasn't with them. Robin mentioned offhand that earlier she'd seen him head toward the showers, complaining about sore shoulders.

Contrary to popular belief, Nami's interests didn't solely lie in money and maps; she appreciated the things her friends did to help and protect her. Nami felt sorry for making Franky do all that work for nothing, so she went below deck to find him and thank him. She knocked on the bathroom door, and when she didn't hear anything in the shower area, she poked her head inside. She saw Franky's shirt and Speedo crumpled on the floor in front of the door to the private bathtub. She knocked on that door too, and Franky rumbled, "yeah? Whaddya want? I'm soaking in here!"  
Contrary to other beliefs that maybe weren't as popular, but were still held by people like Sanji, Nami did not quail at the idea of naked men in general. It was only when they tried to act like perverts toward her that she had a problem. She opened the door and strode into the small bathing area that was mostly taken up by a giant circular marble tub filled with steaming water and a very naked Franky. "Oi! What are you doing in here?!" he barked.  
"I just came in here to say thank you for your help earlier. I'm sorry that we didn't get anything out of it," she said jovially, but then muttered angrily under her breath about useless, idiotic marines and their creepy doll obsessions. Franky laughed and waved off her thanks. He made no move to hide his nakedness (she had to have known he would be naked when she walked in) and was glad that Nami wasn't freaking out about it. Despite his self-proclaimed status as an incorrigible pervert, Franky had zero intention of actually making any moves on his female crewmates. He believed that he shouldn't shit where he ate. He liked the Straw-hat crew the way it was. Those two girls on his crew back on Water Seven had been more like sisters to him than anything else. Plus—free arm candy to boost his reputation. He went to rub his neck, which was still stiff from holding those two-ton doors, and Nami noticed the pain on his face. "Want me to help you with that?" She asked. And before Franky could answer, she had shed her shoes, climbed onto the wide brim of the marble tub, and sat down behind him with her feet in the water. "Wha—oh. Well, if you're offering," he shrugged (or tried to.) Nami began to massage his neck, and Franky instantly felt better. He sighed happily and murmured, "This is suuuuu-paaaah. Pretty ladies adoring me, giving me massages and—"  
"Oi! Just cuz I'm giving you a massage, don't get any ideas, pervert. I just happen to know how to fix sore shoulders." She snapped at him.  
"My, Nami-san, where did you learn such super skills with your fingers?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and leered up at her. He had his reputation to think of after all. Nami glared back down at him.  
"Do you really want to provoke me when I've got you in such a vulnerable position?" she crooned as her fingers dug painfully into the flesh around his kidneys, and Franky almost cried out. Damn his flesh and blood backside.  
"Aaah! Alright, alright! I'll keep my perverted thoughts to myself." He settled back and let her massage his neck and middle back. "You really are good at this, though. Thanks."  
"Don't mention it."

As she worked her fingers through all the knots in his back, Nami noticed Franky occasionally making small contented sounds that almost sounded like moans. Despite herself, she got distracted by his voice, and became intoxicated by the feeling of power she had over him. Then her hands strayed to his lower back, and he tensed up and gasped loudly. "Hehe. What are you, ticklish or something?" she asked. Franky glared at up at her with a 'don't even think about it' kind of expression, and Nami smirked back with mischief in her eyes. She dragged her fingers gently across his lower back again and Franky broke out into the most girlish giggling fit Nami had ever heard from the cyborg. She thought it was hilarious as hell. By the time Franky had slapped his hand over his mouth to stifle himself and had shoved her hands away, Nami was laughing hysterically and had tears of joy in her eyes. "Don't. Do that. Ever. Again." Franky glared at her with murder in his eyes. Nami held up her hands with a 'who, me? I would never' look of innocence on her face. Franky settled back into the water, and Nami continued to work out the stiff muscles in his neck. Every once in a while, Franky would make a small contented sigh, and Nami actually thought it was kind of cute.

A few minutes later, they heard a knock on the door followed by Sanji's voice saying, "dinner in ten minutes, Franky."  
"Yeah, thanks, cook," Franky yelled back.  
"Oh, by the way, have you seen Nami-chan anywhere? I can't seem to find her." Franky froze. Sanji would kick his ass if he knew what Nami was doing. Never mind that she was the instigator; Sanji's chivalrous-knight-complex could reduce entire cities to rubble. "Uh-um, she's—mmmnh" Franky's response involuntarily turned into a moan when Nami did something very strange with her fingers on his shoulder blades. Nami chortled when Franky glared at her.  
"What was that?" Sanji asked through the door.  
"N-nothing! I'm just in here, by myself, without Nami. Taking a ba-haaaaath-" another devious swipe of her fingers, this time close to his lower back.  
"O…kay…" Sanji said, clearly suspicious. Franky looked pissed. He mouthed silently at Nami, 'do you have any idea what kind of hell he will raise if he thinks you're in here with me?' Nami looked at the door and then back at Franky with the most evil grin on her face. Franky shook his head frantically as she started to moan and gasp quietly while her fingers did awful things to his back so that he matched her moan for moan. In desperation, Franky stood up and clamped his hand over her mouth while he slapped her hands away from his body. 'What the hell are you doing?!' he whispered angrily. Nami's shoulders were shaking from concealed laughter while her heart raced at the sight of the intensity in his eyes. "Hey! Is there someone in there with you?! Is that Nami-chan's voice?!" Sanji screamed through the wooden door. He tried to turn the handle of the door, but thankfully Nami had locked it behind her. "I don't know what you're talking about! That was me! I'm taking a bath! Alone! I don't know where Nami-san went! Try the deck!" He half-squeaked. 'I will kill you!' He mouthed at her. Nami raised her hands in a gesture of surrender, and Franky removed his hand from her mouth. He made a zipping motion across his mouth with a pointed look at Nami.

Irritably, he moved to the other side of the bathtub to grab a washcloth, when suddenly Nami moaned again. "Oh, Franky, I can't wait anymore! Take me now~" Franky wheeled around with panic on his face as Nami leered at him. Suddenly they heard an animalistic roar from beyond the door. They both barely had enough time to duck under the water before the door exploded off its hinges, sending large splinters in every direction. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO NAMI-CHAN, YOU PERVERTED DEGENERATE?!" Sanji bellowed into the bathroom. Franky broke the surface of the water, gasping for air. He was about to cuss Sanji out for shattering the hand-carved mahogany door, when the cook grabbed him by the chain around his neck and attempted to choke him with it. "HOW DARE YOU TRY TO CORRUPT NAMI-CHAN!" he screamed. Franky steeled his gaze at him and growled,  
"I'm not trying to do anything. She's the one who—"  
"Don't lie to me, you piece of shit! What are you trying to do to Nami?!"

As if on cue, Nami rose slowly from the water like a mermaid gracefully breaking the surface of the sea. She lifted her hands to wring the water from her hair and fixed the both of them with a come-hither stare. The two men froze, and their eyes followed the rivulets of water cascading down her neck into her cleavage. Her light blue t-shirt was now translucent, and they could make out every lacy, floral detail on her pink bra. Her shorts clung to her hips in a way that looked like they were about to slide right off of her. Franky's jaw dropped, and he blushed despite himself. Sanji had passed out on the floor, bleeding profusely from the nose. Nami smirked and stepped gracefully out of the bathtub. "There, now Sanji can't beat you up. You're welcome." She made a peace sign with her fingers and smiled charmingly. She then turned and said over her shoulder: "See you at dinner, guys." She then sauntered out of the bathroom without any hint of embarrassment. Franky shook himself out of his stupor and muttered, "That devious little...She had this planned from the start! Now I gotta fix the door…" He stepped over Sanji's unconscious body and grabbed a towel, still muttering.

Later at dinner, as Sanji pondered in confusion as to why his nose was still bleeding (he'd hit his head on the edge of the tub as he fainted and forgot what had happened, but his pervert senses hadn't,) Franky whispered stealthily to Nami, "I will get you back for the door, you know." She paused, dumpling halfway to her mouth, and turned to him with a dangerous glint in her eye. They stared each other down. "Bring it on," she whispered back.  
'Challenge accepted.' He grinned at her like a Cheshire cat and adjusted his shades before returning to his meal.


	2. Bottle in Your Pocket

A FEW DAYS LATER

It was a little after midnight when Nami ventured toward the kitchen. She had just woken up for her shift at the wheel, and she desperately needed some caffeine. As she yawned and thought about grabbing some leftover teacakes to go with her coffee, she noticed the light in the crack of Franky's workshop door and paused. She knew he wasn't on shift that night. 'What's he doing up so late?' she thought as she peered through the slight opening in the door and saw Franky hunched over his drafting table, snoring slightly. She slipped silently into the room and over to him. He was drooling profusely onto his sketchbook, pencil still clutched in his hand. He looked a lot younger in his sleep.

Nami poked his shoulder. When that got no response, she poked his cheek. Still no response. Finally she slapped him, and he woke with a yawn. "Oh. Nami-san. What are you doing up?"

"I'm on night shift. Why are you here instead of your bed?"

"Eh. Just sketching some new cannon designs. Lost track of time, I guess." He stretched and rolled his shoulders. Nami smiled, remembering the bathtub incident. Her fingers twitched for a second like she wanted to touch him again. He stood up and grabbed a soda from the ice chest next to the table and offered her one as well. She took a swig, and felt more awake. She stood with the ice chest between her and the cyborg.

Franky watched Nami as she sipped her soda. Her hair was a little mussed; her baggy, un-zipped hoodie draped over her tank top and all the way to her mid-thigh. Her jeans had a few artfully placed rips in them. He thought she looked adorable. "So, I'm still waiting for you to get me back for the bathroom door," she said offhand. Franky's eyes narrowed, and he took a swig of his soda. "So what are the rules?" he asked.

"Rules?"

"This is a challenge, right? So how do we know who's won?"

"I don't remember issuing a challenge," said Nami.

"Oh? What other meaning was I supposed to take from the phrase, 'bring it on'?" Franky rested his head on his hand and leaned sideways to look at Nami.

"Only that I was really bored, and you seem like a devious kind of guy. I figured we'd have some fun."

"I love a good prank as much as the next guy, but going back to my earlier question, exactly what kind of fun?" Nami took a thoughtful swig of her soda.

"I guess I missed the fun of using my feminine wiles to get myself in and out of trouble."

"Yeah. I've seen the way you treat Curly Cook. He's an easy target, though."

"I was a cat-burglar and con artist for half my life," she said, as if that explained everything. "What's your excuse, super-pervert? You trying to get into my pants?"

"Not even a little bit, girlie. I'm on a boat in the middle of a crazy ocean with a crew full of weirdoes. There's no telling what would happen if we started sleeping with each other." He took another swig.

"I see your point." A small tendril of disappointment flickered across her heart, but she ignored it.

"However, I'd still like to keep up my reputation as a dashing, super-cool pervert." He winked. Nami rolled her eyes, but then held her bottle to her lips in thought.

"Well then, that answers one question."

"Huh?"

"The rules of this challenge are: the first person to blush loses. You can use any means as long as it doesn't cause lasting damage—physical or psychological." The innocent expression on her face as she said that made Franky chuckle into his soda bottle.

"And how do we decide an ultimate winner?"

"When the other person cries uncle."

"What's the prize?"

"How about the loser pays the winner $1,000,000 belli?" Nami chirped.

"Nah. Playing for money is boring. Besides, you'll just pitch a fit when you lose." Nami snorted in indignation. "How about, the loser has to do anything the winner says for 24 hours, no questions asked." Franky grinned devilishly.

'Oh, now it is really on!' she thought. "Deal."

She walked a few steps to shake his hand, but misjudged the distance and began to trip over the ice chest. Franky stood quickly to catch her. Before he knew what had happened, he was on the floor balancing his weight on one arm while the other wrapped around Nami's waist below him. Nami opened her eyes and saw Franky looming above her, stunned by the realization of how…compromising their position was. Their legs were entangled; one of her hands was clutching his shirt, and their faces were inches away from each other. She had managed to hold onto the soda bottle in the hand that was clutched to her chest. Her suddenly horizontal position had caused the remaining soda to spill onto her cleavage, pouring across her clavicle and over the sides of her slender neck. Her lips parted and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Franky couldn't pull his eyes away. He licked his lips and absently wondered how his favorite soda would taste on her skin. He breathed in her citrus-y scent mixed with the scent of cola and gulped audibly. He leaned down, barely conscious of his actions.

"Hey Franky, is that a bottle of soda in your Speedo, or are you just happy to see me?" Franky snapped back into the present, saw the smug look on Nami's face, and a brilliant blush spread across his face and down his neck. He removed his arm from her waist as she laughed. "Well you—I wasn't—you—you did this on purpose!"

"Well, duuuh!" Nami giggled. "Nami two, Franky zero. Ha. Ha." Franky glared down at her, and thought quickly of a counter-move.

"I don't think the bathtub thing should count, but we can argue semantics later. While I've got you down here, we might as well get you out of those wet cl—" Before he could complete the perverted thought, Nami kneed him forcefully in the crotch. She rolled gracefully out from under him while he sputtered and rolled over onto his side in the fetal position.

"Nobody likes a sore loser, Franky," she called as she sashayed out of his workshop. Franky suddenly regretted not turning 100% of his front half into metal.

'This is going to be harder than I thought.'


End file.
